


coffee on mondays and fridays

by mysticmist



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 13:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16138199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticmist/pseuds/mysticmist
Summary: in which a certain brown-headed boy tends to stare at me during my work shift. and I unintentionally end up doing the same.





	coffee on mondays and fridays

**Author's Note:**

> a childhood friend reuniting in a coffee shop AU

I work at a cafe, part-time serving tables. It's not that I'm in desperate need of the money – my monthly allowances are just fine. It's just that I like the fact that part of the money are self-earned. Also, that feeling of walking into the scent of freshly brewed coffees after a never-ending class in college is just amazing.

Today was just another day at the cafe, one or two spoilt high school students, sometimes we get visits from the elderly group, but most of our visits are by students from my college since the coffee shop is literally facing the campus.

The doorbell clanged, bringing me back into the world of reality and so I turned to greet our newest customer. I smiled lightly, a sign of familiarity, glad that it was our regular customer and not someone who had the chance of being a rude customer.

He was always here on Mondays and Fridays at 4:30 p.m. and he'll be sitting around until the time my shift ends. I never caught his name but I always liked the way he dressed—it's as if he tried to dress up but halfway through he probably thought nah and gave up—it made him look like he tried to look good but didn't put enough effort into it. It was just nice.

Whenever he came, he would order a warm cup of Cuppucino which he specifically asks for me to make.

(I'm not entirely sure why it was me he chose. Perhaps he feels that I have the aura that could make him a coffee that is up to his preferences? Well perhaps.)

And like always he would then proceed to take a seat on the table that is placed beside the glass-window and is closest to the counter.

He usually brings along a notebook in which he sketches on, and weirdly enough, I would find him glancing my way from time to time. I couldn't, however, make any accusations as it might be just my imaginations.

Plus, he is quite the attractive man that he is so I couldn't help myself from staring either. Especially when he tends to come round when the sun is still up yet it isn't quite too glaring, so the rays of sunlight would be peeking its way through the windows, brushing against his skin lightly.

The image of his fluffy brown hair being slightly illuminated by the sun remains a picturesque sight that helps me get through the day at work and I couldn't ask for more. Well this makes me just as much a criminal rather than a victim in this small crime. Hence, why I didn't dwell on reporting his subtle gazings.

This phenomenon happens every single week without fail and without myself realising, I started anticipating for Mondays and Fridays to come much faster.

Sadly enough, I've never had the courage to peek at his sketches. I didn't know what to expect and I'm afraid of what's to come. And I don't think it's a good idea to steal glances at a stranger's work without any permission.

Turns out, today is not just another day at the cafe. At the end of my shift, in which his table was the last table I had to clean before leaving, I found a piece of serviette obviously placed at the edge of the table so that people would notice the contents before mistaking it as an unused table napkin.

‘To: 김여림’ it says. He probably got my name from my nametag hanging on the left side of my uniform's brest pocket.

A number was written very neatly in the middle of the tissue paper. His number, that is.

  
✧

  
I got home that night and that serviette with the written digits on my study table was haunting me. I heaved a sigh before I picked up my cellphone and dialed the number, thinking that ‘well, curiosity did kill the cat’.

"Please don't pick up, please don't pick up."

I chanted to myself because yes I was afraid. I had no idea what I should say and after my fourth chant, the line got connected. A male voice—rather raspy yet very soft and it had made my heart melt from the warmness in it—answered from the other line.

“Hello?”

“Yes, hello.”

There was a fat silence after the greeting. “May I know who I'm speaking to?”

“I believe you left a note for Kim Yerim, and I'd like to know why?”

A chuckle was heard through the other line.

“Would you fancy a date tomorrow?”

“Huh?” I was indeed a bit dumbfounded as it was just too sudden.

“Nevermind. I'm not going to wait for a confirmation and just gonna try my luck. So, uh. 6 p.m. At the park near the cafe you work at. I hope to see you tomorrow.”

Then the line got cut off.

  
✧

  
It was a quarter before six and I still contemplated whether I should go or not. I walked around in circles in my bedroom (which rose a couple of questioning looks from my roommate) and eventually made my decision. Might as well try something exciting once in a while instead of regretting it.

I took some time contemplating how I should dress on this so-called “date”. I eventually settled on a blue-black casual dress which made me look pretty and taller, but it wasn't too over the top to make me look obvious that I was trying to seduct him.

I made my way out and walked my way there. My college dorm is not all that far from the park and the autumn breeze hitting my face felt really nice so I really didn't mind using up a tiny bit of energy to get there.

“Yerim!”

A soft voice called me out as I was taking a stroll around the park. There was a familiarity in the way my name was spoken. So I turned around at the sound of my name. It was him.

“I was worried you wouldn't recognise me, but then you were my playmate when you were only seven and I was nine. So it didn't make sense for your memory to be crystal.”

“Wait. Jungkook? Jeon Jeonkook?”

The ends of his lip tugs into a smile.

“That took you long enough.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> so this is actually a rly rly old fic that i wrote like 4 years ago so as much as i edited to make it more /professional/ and descriptive, i somehow couldn't change it completely so some parts may be abit childish. 
> 
> but anyways i hope yall enjoyed this since it is my first fic therefore it is mY Child so pls leave some warm comments or genuine critiques


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